The Queen of Darkness
by BetaReject
Summary: Not Padmékin! On the eve of her coronation Padmé prepares for the oracles blessing. What she receives however is nothing short of a warning.
1. The Oracle

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. None of it.

**Author's notes: **On the eve of her coronation Padmé prepares for the oracles blessing. What she receives however is nothing short of a warning.

* * *

She sat motionless before the soothsayer. Her face painted white and void of expression, her hair tied back into thick braids, bound into an elegant bun. A perfect image of a mask, only her amber eyes revealed the truth of her emotions.

Perfectly porcelain palms rested carefully in the folds of her finely embroidered gown. Many little hands bled and sweat to make the ritualistic gown she wore, a silent reminder that it would take more than just rules on a paper to end the corruption that existed.

No one needed to know her fingers were shaking or that her palms carefully painted white were clammy to the touch. Within hours she would be coroneted queen of Naboo and none of this would matter anymore. Padmé Amidala knew she had to be flawless, untouchable and deadly. Everything about her had been carved, moulded and chiselled into the role demanded of her.

The role she believed was her destiny.

Tonight Padmé was to receive the blessing of the high priest of the goddess Asherah. Padmé was not excited for this reason for she never had much use for religion or the petty gods it offered.

She was excited because she would finally be embracing her destiny. Everything she had experienced, underwent, and learnt was meant to bring her to this place, to this moment. Now that she was here Padmé wanted the ceremonies to finally end so she could begin her life's work.

The oracle watched the petite woman intently his black eyes shining with unnatural fire. His slender body hunched over an ancient leathery and blood stained scroll. Bone runes rested neatly over it, while lit candles adorned the corners.

Padmé wondered what it meant but didn't have to wait for long. The wrinkled old man reached out and smeared away the pasty white make-up that covered her only birthmark, a small mole that decorated her cheek. His frown deepened at the sight of it.

"You are the mask; the one who knows no truth, only lies. You mimic and mock the one the people believe you to be."

His words were calm, tranquil even but the potency in them could not be ignored. Padmé had no idea whom this elder man was comparing her to but she didn't put it to heart. Rune casters always spoke in riddles to hide the fact they nothing of what they claimed to understand.

But before she had a chance to speak further the man grabbed her left wrist and raked a small ornament blade across her porcelain skin. Padmé gasped in shock and glared at him in silent defiance not caring or noting the blood that freely trickled down her wrist. He said nothing but turned her wrist downwards his expression thoughtful as he watched the stream of blood trickle onto the leather canvas.

Once satisfied by the bloodshed he released her hand and grabbed the bloodied runes, shook them, and tossed the bones into the small pool of blood. The stench of the incense, fresh blood and candle wax was made her nauseas, while the loss of blood made her light-headed.

Another moment of silence passed between them as the healer studied the runes before him carefully. His expression revealed nothing of his thoughts but his eyes that now met hers spoke volumes.

It was his words that caused her blood to run cold.

"You hold the scales of life and death.

"In your hands rests the balances of light and dark.

"In your lust for power, your need for control you will embrace that which is not yours to have.

"Many will pay the price for your greed, many more will for it as well.

"Through your _peace_ you will usher in an era of war and chaos. Through your _wisdom_ you will unleash an evil so terrible, entire planets will crumble in its wake."

"How dare you!" Padmé stammered in disbelief not understanding why this man she had never met until tonight would bear such ill will towards her? Towards her hopes and dreams?

He was not finished and continued as though she had not spoken.

"You are the herald of destruction, the mistress of chaos. They must not follow you. He must not follow you."

The strange man continued to murmur these words softly to himself as though chanting, begging the goddess he served to protect him, and the universe from the threat he believed she was.

Padmé confused and annoyed rose to her feet and quickly grabbed one of the clean pieces of cloth that rested nearby. Wrapping her bloodied wrist with it she made her way out of the private chambers and into the grand halls where her handmaidens to be waited for her return. She spoke not a word to them and instead swiftly departed from the temple.

The birthmark was covered during the coronation and soon after was removed. The words of the oracle could not be so easily buried and would later return to haunt her with a vengeance. 


	2. The Queen

Padmé felt no fear as she approached the stairs leading to her throne; only anticipation. The populace waited and watched her with baited breath, all wanting to catch sight of the beautiful new queen who was about to receive her coronation. While ancient rituals had long since become a memory of the past, some traditions were hard to let go; this being the greatest of them.

Padmé had no intention of being just another puppet queen. There had been enough of them already throughout the course of history. She might have been young, but already she was familiar with the games of politics.

Padmé was also jaded enough not to fall for the romantic notions of her position. She already knew the real reason why girls were always chosen young. While she was taught otherwise, she knew it wasn't for her beauty or her intelligence that marked her as a perfect vessel for the goddess's power. It was because she was too young to know the fiery art of passion play. But if the goddess was supposedly a representation of life, love and passion wouldn't she prefer to bind herself to mothers, wives and lovers? Why would she bother herself with naïve young virgins?

Upon asking that very question some years ago Padmé had promptly earned a swift slap across the mouth and rigorous training the likes she had never known. The lesson was taught, but never learnt. Padmé already having no use for the goddess relied even more on her quick wits and clever thinking after that.

The priests walked along side the petite queen as she made her way up the long stairs; the sound of the chains from the hanging lamps they held jingled softly completed the air of etherealness. The pungent scent of incense burning from them that sent chills down her spine.

_They must not follow you. _

The memory of the oracles words caused Padmé to furrow her brow in concern. Soon she cleared her thoughts; the mask was in place once more. Other priests joined the entourage and began to wave candles that hung from chains as well. They walked past her in silence waiting for her to join them on the platform where her throne now rested. At the top of the stairs Padmé remained perfectly still as she had been trained to do. The priests surrounded her and were soon passing around Padmé, each with their head bowed as they chanted the ancient tongue used for such occasions.

Padmé wore the ceremonial mask required of her, yet she felt incredibly exposed. The oracle wasn't there but the young queen was certain the priests all knew the warning given to her.

"Who are you?"

The question was brief, to the point, and perfectly ritual.

"I am a child of the stars, I am the Naboo," Padmé replied in a stronger voice than most would expect given the circumstances.

_You are the Dark Lady, the voice of death and destruction. _

The petite woman's eye snapped wide as she stared to the crowd wanting to know where the oracle was, as only they would dare to speak such terrible things.

"What is it you seek?"

Another priest asked, as required of the ritual. Padmé didn't respond as she was too distracted by the voice she heard. Everyone waited patiently for her reply; but the words just would not come.

"To serve the people, to ensure that harmony reigns," Padmé said finally, her clear voice cutting the heavy silence that hung in the night air.

_Oh queen of chaos, mistress of darkness woe to those who follow your reign. Woe to those who are under your rule. _

"Stop it! Stop it now!" she threatened under her breath certain now that the oracle was amongst the cloaked priests who stood still behind her.

If anyone heard her warning it did not show and the ceremony continued uninterrupted. The celebrations that followed were barely noticed by Padmé who spent most of her time watching the crowds and the priests in hopes of catching sight of the oracle. The old man however was no where to be found. 


	3. The Waif

The hair on the back of her neck prickled at the sight of the unconscious waif. Covered in welts, cuts, and dirt the battered girl hardly appeared to be a threat. Yet, Padmé felt her body instinctively stiffen, a silent warning that something was wrong. As though a part of her knew she was staring into the face of her demise.

"What is she doing here?" Padmé asked quickly. She didn't like being caught unawares, especially when it pertained to her privacy.

"The Captain found her on the steps of the palace," Saché remarked as she helped Sabé remove the tattered garbs that covered the girl.

"And why wasn't I informed of this sooner? This sort of surprise I can do without."

Padmé hadn't meant to sound so harsh but her instincts were warring with her rational thought leaving her on edge. Saché was about to speak out but caught herself.

"Your majesty we did try to reach you but had been informed you were in a meeting and was not to be interrupted," Sabé intoned patiently. Padmé's temper cooled; she couldn't blame anyone for obeying her request.

"I understand, but that still doesn't explain why she is here and not in a med lab," Padmé added feeling her concerns rise again. She couldn't say why she felt so on edge about the girl, but was unable to ignore her emotions about it either.

"A medical droid is on its way," Saché stated, her voice quiet but challenging. Padmé frowned, her amber eyes steely as she gave Saché a sharp look.

"Yes, I know. That still doesn't explain why she is on my couch and not in a medical lab having her wounds tended to."

Saché scowled about to speak but Sabé graciously interceded. "Milady, she was unconscious when we found her.

"It's closer here and she needs immediate help."

Padmé nodded in reply, unable to ignore the guilt setting in. "Is she going to be alright?" she asked quietly.

"Hopefully we'll know soon enough," Sabé said while helping Saché clean the young woman's wounds.

The medical droid arrived soon after and promptly took over leaving the elder handmaiden's to watch on as it went about its work. It was out of curiosity that Padmé approached the young woman to have a better look at her.

She was petite too small in fact a sign of her malnutrition, yet her features bore an uncanny semblance to Padmé's own. It was almost unnerving. Only on further examination the Naboo queen noted the subtle differences between them. The relief felt could not be ignored but was swiftly buried.

Where Padmé's face was perfectly chiselled, sharp and porcelain, this girl's was soft and gentle, covered with freckles. Padmé's appearance was the cold as the maiden's was warm.

Taking it all in Padmé furrowed her brow thoughtfully, thinking of her own beauty mark, how she removed it, before shivering at the reasons why.

In her distraction Padmé unwittingly reached out to touch the girl's left arm. Without warning the girl's eyes snapped open and immediately her amber eyes held Padmé's gaze. Now it was the young woman's left hand that firmly gripped Padmé's right wrist. Caught off guard the Naboo queen was unable to look away.

_He's not yours to have and never will be. He's mine._

The girl's lips didn't move but Padmé could hear her voice so fierce and determined echoing in her thoughts. The young woman's voice, so ethereal and ageless, spoke the language of the ancients. While Padmé had no comprehension of the language, she understood every word.

Padmé moved to wrench herself free; it was too late the young girl's hand was limp and had since fallen to her side. In fact the young woman revealed no signs of the life Padmé had witnessed only moments ago. Only Sabé's watchful eyes revealed that it wasn't just Padmé's imagination playing tricks.

Frowning Padmé let her eyes briefly return to the young girl's form before meeting Sabé and Saché's watchful gazes.

"Have the medical staff tend to her wounds, and return her to full health. She is to be properly dressed and presentable, so she may begin her training with the other handmaidens."

Padmé pretended not to see Saché's small smile or the relief in Sabé's eyes. The Naboo queen couldn't explain the sudden change of heart and her two most trusted handmaidens knew better than to ask. She had her reasons, and in time Padmé was certain the truth behind this sudden decision would reveal itself.

Little did she realize that its revelation would change the galaxy forever.


	4. The Blade

  
The waif, turned handmaiden known as Dormé Jaffa learnt fast. Just as Saché predicted the young woman knew how to _play_ hard. Watching Dormé sparring was a sight to behold. Padmé used to believe herself above the use of melee that was until she witnessed Dormé besting one of the more trained handmaidens. It wasn't long after that the Senator took to brandishing her old staff –a weapon she hadn't touched since the early days of her training. Despite her busy schedule Padmé was quick to find time to re-train herself in handling the staff as well as other forms of melee.

Though Padmé swiftly regained her lost skills it wasn't enough. She lacked something that Dormé had and Padmé was determined to stop at nothing until she too had it. The more the Senator observed the young woman, the clearer the truth became.

"What you desire is Lady Jaffa's freedom. The very freedom you chose to deny when you embraced the destiny of a queen," Tamé, Padmé's personal trainer remarked as she unceremoniously flipped Padmé's petite form, slamming it hard onto the mat. Padmé didn't even have a chance to react and promptly found herself glaring up at her mentor with amber eyes flashing with indignation.

"I'm better than that. I know I am," Padmé snapped between puffs of air.

It had been an ongoing spar between them since the senator's arrival to the dojo that evening. As always Padmé's calculating nature caved into blind rage and Tamé was quick to show the young queen, turned senator, the err of her ways.

"Then why are you so troubled?

"Why do you feel the need to compete?" Tamé stated factually as she helped the former queen to her feet. The senator briefly paused as though debating whether or not to admit the truth.

"Because she does whatever she wants and no one stops her. She respects no one and its fine," Padmé finally admitted through clenched teeth. She then grabbed her blade and moved to attack as the spar was clearly far from over. The handmaiden turned instructor was prepared for this and soon the sound of clashing blades filled the room.

"Dormé can go out all hours of the night, drink herself silly, dance on tables if she so desires, take any and all to her bed and no one cares!" Padmé vented in frustration.

"To quote Saché; she is the embodiment of what ever woman wants to be, but never dares to embrace-"

"You're jealous of her," Tamé cut in, her voice, like her expression calm and unnerved. The truth was as unnerving as it was infuriating.

"Yes, no –yes," Padmé stammered as she dodged a skilful attack by her instructor.

"I tire of the scrutiny, the constant need to defend my every action, my every word.

"I've spent my entire life apologizing for every flaw, every mistake, every crime that the leaders of Naboo have made since the beginning of our rule," Padmé explained before making a particularly fierce attack.

Tamé swiftly blocked it, uttering a soft curse in surprise as she did so. It was a first, but Padmé was too caught up in her thoughts to fully appreciate the moment.

"I know it is all a part of my duty and I appreciate the necessity of sacrifice. But for once in my life I'd like to be a little indulgent and not feel guilty for it," Padmé said between sharp gasps of air. The battle was growing heated this time with the Naboo Senator slowly gaining the upper hand.

Tamé was hardly threatened by the woman's bitter mood and laughed in amusement to Padmé's words. "Does this mean I can expect to see you headlining the holo-news with escapades of celebrations and stories of your wanton lovers?" she teased.

Padmé eyes narrowed in disgust before unleashing a particularly vicious attack. "As I said, I'm better than that," the Senator icily replied as her mentor swiftly blocked it.

"No, you both are of the same rune, just different parts of it," Tamé remarked in factual tones; a sharp contrast to the fierce music made by their clashing blades.

Padmé didn't respond this time. Her expression stoic marking her mask was firmly in place.

"Lady Jaffa's passions are that of a raging waterfall, or perhaps a tsunami. It is powerful, it is deadly and it is beautiful. It makes no apology for what it is, nor should it," Tamé continued smoothly as their spar intensified.

"Your passion Padmé is that of a metal blade. You too, are powerful, deadly and beautiful. You say your life is filled with apologies, but not once have you ever apologized for who you are –nor should you."

Clearly unconvinced by her mentor's words Padmé performed an elaborate move that almost caused the elder woman to lose her footing. Year of experience ensured Tamé was able to swiftly recover and continue their deadly dance without pause. Only her amber eyes now filled with humble pride revealed what she thought about the Senator's attack.

But the lesson wasn't over.

"Your passion may be tempered and controlled, but it is only as powerful as you allow it.

"Lady Dormé's passion though wild and undisciplined, is also only as powerful as the consequences will allow.

"You both would do well to learn this truth and put it to memory. It can mean the difference between your success and your demise."

The young senator grew pensive to the woman's words despite her volatile attacks that left both women staring each other down with blades firmly locked.

Padmé couldn't deny that she was intrigued at the idea of being like a blade. A properly crafted blade was as much a piece of art as it was a weapon. In Naboo legends blades were almost always associated with noble members of the Old Guard and their codes of honour.

Padmé never had a chance to dwell on the thought further as the retired handmaiden was soon teaching her new formations and attacks. The discussion though over wasn't without its wisdom or its unanswered questions.

Only later would Padmé realise that something was missing in Tamé's allegory. Those who followed the ancient religions of Naboo cast runes that had three sides. The front always represented water with its back representing fire. The third side of the rune the middle that divided fire and water, represented metal. It was believed that water was symbolic for harmony, fire for chaos and metal being the _scales_ that balanced the two; the realm of mortals.

Padmé despite having no faith in the ancient religions or in the gods couldn't help but wonder, if she was metal, and water was Dormé, then whom was meant to be the element of fire?


	5. The Mirror

The minute Master Kenobi's padawan laid eyes on her Padmé knew she was desired. The boy was hardly subtle in his gaze; at any other time Padmé would have found his attempts to impress her amusing. Now all she felt was a powerful sense of foreshadowing.

Almost immediately Padmé felt another pair of eyes settling on the man-child and didn't need to glance back to know who it was. The senator resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she wondered how long it would take for the handmaiden to find her way into the padawan's bed. Padmé then wondered why she felt such satisfaction when the boy from Tatooine was too enraptured by her presence to even notice the beautiful handmaiden behind her.

The thought was a disturbing one and Padmé was swift to bury it. She would be damned if her mask wasn't firmly in place and in front of Dormé no less. Soon Padmé was all smiles once more as she spoke to Anakin who eagerly tripped over his words in his attempts to be charming.

As Padmé guided the Jedi Master and his padawan to the couches she briefly paused to ask Dormé to bring them some tea. However, when Padmé's amber eyes met Dormé's own the senator froze as the sound of another's voice filled her mind.

_He's mine! _

Padmé was certain that it was Dormé's voice she heard in her thoughts, yet the language spoken was far too archaic for the decoy to understand. Nevertheless the voice was, without question, Dormé's own.

"Milady?"

The sound of Dormé's question pulled Padmé out of her confusion. Only then did the Senator register her actions or lack thereof. Mortified by the vulnerability displayed Padmé stiffened and gave the handmaiden a harsh look.

"Dormé, some tea for our guests if you please," Padmé ordered in brisk tones watching as the petite woman continued to stare at padawan Skywalker despite bowing to her. Padmé tried to ignore the way the handmaiden shamelessly stared at the padawan. She also tried not to notice how Anakin was oblivious to Dormé and everyone else in the room save for her. The sense of satisfaction felt at this discovery was not only disturbing, it was downright shaming. Only children competed over such petty things and Padmé knew she, of all people, was above such things.

The strange warning continued to play in her mind, along with the haunting memory of her first encounter with the petite decoy. It caused Padmé's thoughts to be entirely elsewhere throughout much of the meeting.

Only later when Padmé was removing her make-up and grooming her dark hair did she allow her thoughts to truly wander. In silence she stared at her reflection in the mirror noting the striking semblance between herself and her decoy, Dormé. At one time Padmé once believed that Dormé resembled her, now she couldn't help but wonder if it was in reality the other way around.

Replaying the events of the day Padmé found herself reminded of Dormé's seductive and watchful gaze; the way she was undressing Anakin with her eyes throughout the entire meeting. A frown crept into her perfect lips as Padmé found herself unable to deny the rush of frustration and if she dared herself to admit to it, jealousy.

It wasn't the usual form of jealousy, for Padmé felt no attraction towards Anakin. This was a jealousy of another sort. Ever since Dormé came into her life Padmé felt as though she were in competition with the young woman for everything up to and even her skills as a decoy and senator. Only when it came to the opposite sex was there no contest; till today.

Padmé couldn't say what was so infuriating about Dormé's obvious interest in Padawan Skywalker. In the past she never cared who Dormé took to her bed; it was neither her business, nor her problem. Yet the gratification felt when Anakin saw only her could not be denied. Never had Padmé ever been so blindly and fanatically adored, it was both thrilling and frightening.

More importantly it was the first time Padmé didn't feel the need to compete with Dormé, as this was one _battle_ she had already won. For this reason alone Padmé found herself feeling incredibly possessive of the padawan's adoration. It was hers to have, hers to keep and no matter what Dormé might believe Padmé had no intention of sharing. Padmé's entire life both professional and private had to be shared with her decoy. It was a necessary evil, but one that left little, if anything for Padmé to truly claim as her own.

Was it truly so selfish to want something so petty to claim as her own? Padmé sighed to the thought, her porcelain brow knitted as she struggled with her warring thoughts. Twisting her hair up into a loose updo that she often wore to bed, Padmé couldn't help but feel a little frustrated over her situation. Why should Dormé have it all? Why was it Dormé who was free to do as she pleased without any weight or worry of consequence while she was forced to be the stiff, unmoving statue? It frustrated Padmé to no end that Dormé's passion and lack of morale's was met with such praise by those who knew her. Dormé never had to apologize for anything and was above regrets, while Padmé's own life was built on the regrets of Naboo's previous leaders and the need to apologize for their mistakes.

Padmé knew it would only be a matter of time before Padawan Skywalker too would be drawn to Dormé's charm. No man ever could resist her; they didn't have to as she loved them as much as they loved her. Practicality stated that such thoughts were foolish, that it didn't matter what Skywalker thought about her. It wasn't as though she hadn't been adored or sought after by other men or that she'd never catch the eyes of another again. It did little to ease Padmé's stormy thoughts.

_I'll be damned if I let that little kinattu take away what is mine and mine alone! _

A chill ran down her spine causing Padmé's thoughts to snap back. In stunned disbelief she stared at the pale image in the mirror. Thin lines of blood trickled down her brow staining her porcelain skin with its vibrant crimson shade. With shaking fingers Padmé gingerly reached up to remove the pins that had cut her scalp. Never had Padmé ever been so distracted that she had lost all semblance of control, certainly not up to the point of hurting herself. The realization was hardly a comforting one.

Padmé shivered to the thought as she cleaned the blood from her brow all the while trying to ignore her reflection stared back at her in mockery as if to say _ she does bleed like the rest of us after all._


	6. The Mistake

  
_Do you have any regrets? _

Padmé resisted the urge to close her eyes so as to block out the memory.

_Not now, _ she fiercely thought to herself.

The holy man was speaking in a language Padmé knew Anakin wouldn't understand; she wished she didn't either. Hearing the lyrical verses of loyalty, love and devotion only reminded Padmé of all that they weren't.

_A true leader has no regrets, _ Padmé reminded herself. It did little to ease the memory of Bail's words to her.

_That is not what I asked; I want to know if you, Padmé Naberrie, has any regrets. _

Padmé felt the cool metal of Anakin's prosthetic hand slipping into hers as another voice filled her thoughts.

_He must not follow you. _

Padmé shivered. Only now years later, did she finally understand its meaning.

All the while Anakin fumbled over the words grinning like a fool who had just won some great prize.

The reality of her situation began to sink in as did the panic.

_What am I doing here? What have I done? Surely there is still time to undo all of this! _ The senator didn't turn away, nor did she run, despite the overpowering urge to do so. Instead Padmé recited the lines as required of her, looking through rather than at, her husband-to-be.

"May your souls be bound through harmony; may the realms of chaos never find you," the priest finally concluded in polite tones.

Bail's visage entered Padmé's thoughts as she closed her eyes bringing a sincere smile to her lips as she kissed Anakin. The young man's child-like kiss forced Padmé's thoughts out of their dreams. Suddenly she felt as though she were suffocating, yet almost as soon as the feeling descended upon her it was gone. It was a feeling Padmé would come to know intimately in years to come.

Only when the passion play of their wedding night eased into the peaceful sounds of Anakin's snores did Padmé allow herself to lower her _masks_. The young padawan held onto her tightly causing Padmé's sense of claustrophobia to flare up. She needed to get away, to step outside and get some fresh air, anything to clear her thoughts and the panic it encouraged.

The senator tried to be careful as she shifted out of Anakin's vice like embrace. Yet the young man was quick to sense her movement and was murmuring incoherently as he sought to tighten his grip around her again. Fortunately Padmé was quicker, and soon her pillow was left to stand in her place.

Stepping out onto the balcony's Padmé smiled to herself before closing her eyes as she breathed in the night air. It was welcoming sensation, and despite the chill of the soft wind the former queen didn't bother with the ties of her silken robe. A simple gesture that left Padmé feeling oddly liberated even though the beautiful but modest nightgown beneath it revealed nothing.

Wandering about the stone balcony Padmé's thoughts turned to the past. She couldn't help but wonder when the last time she was comfortable enough to do something as simple and as enjoyable as this.

In another time, another place she would have imagined that Senator Organa was here by her side taking in the night air and enjoying her presence. She knew the Alderaani prince would have appreciated its beauty, as well as its dark history.

_It's hard to believe ancient ritualistic sacrifices were performed on this very balcony. _

The wind picked up causing the trees to shiver as shadows of the moons danced against the dark stones. Instinctively Padmé's manicured fingers went for the sash of her robe. Though she knew better the former queen couldn't deny the feeling that someone was watching her. Suddenly she didn't feel so comfortable in her skin and immediately the unseeing masks were firmly in place.

"Padmé? Are you alright? Is everything okay?"

Anakin's arms seemed to come out of the darkness; wrapping themselves around her from no where. His grip was stifling and she gasped sharply struggling to breathe. The padawan immediately apologized and loosened his grip. The strange feeling of suffocation did not.

"I was just restless Ani, nothing a little night air couldn't clear," Padmé assured him with an almost convincing smile. Anakin gave her a look of relief that promptly turned impish. This time she was prepared for the amateur kiss that followed.

Padmé wondered if Dormé would still lust after Anakin if she knew the boy wasn't nearly as experienced as the men she surrounded herself with. The thought offered little, if anything, save making her heart ache for the one that was not hers to have.

Ignorant of her true thoughts Anakin took her hand and led Padmé inside without another word. The senator followed without resistance as a soft but deep voice haunted her memory.

_Do you Padmé Naberrie have any regrets?_

_I do now my dear friend. _


	7. The Scales

  
One of the first things Padmé discovered about her new _husband_ was his profound ability to delude himself into believing whatever his heart wanted him to believe. Padmé was certain he'd learn his _wife_ was having regrets and confront her about them. In fact she had been so sure of it that she even had even worked out an explanation. Surely he'd come to understand that what she had said was just words, frantic collections of incoherent thoughts spoken in a moment of duress.

Padmé inwardly sighed to the impossible thought as she continued to swim toward the islands that decorated the lakes center. If only things were so simple and easy to mend.

At one time she used to escape to the island to spend time with friends, when she was older it was to spend time with her lover. Now she swam to and from it to escape him.

At the thought her strokes grew stronger while the paddling of her feet grew swifter. Padmé had been swimming to and from the island for much of the morning and was now exhausted. It didn't stop her from continuing on at her pace; to slow down would be a sign of weakness. She also didn't know how much longer she'd have before the padawan awoke and wanted to make the most of her fleeting freedom.

Padmé may have been Anakin's wife but she felt more like his prisoner; one trapped and bound by the delusions of the love he believed they had for each other. She had such hopes that he'd come to his senses, or at the very least learn the truth through her emotions and thoughts, but it never happened. Padmé told Anakin on Geonosis that she _loved_ him, so therefore (in his mind) it must be true.

How she longed to confess her to her crime, to finally end the façade! But Padmé knew better than to speak of such things or even to allow herself to think of them. Anakin was much more than just an innocent boy to her now. He was a dangerous killer, capable of terrible things, such as the slaughter of innocent children.

_So are you. _

Padmé shivered and faltered in mid stroke to the foreign thought causing the wake she had created to slap against her face. She was in the middle of the lake and the wind was beginning to pick up. Her body reeled with exhaustion but she continued to tread the water. Though her arms shook and her legs ached as though they were without bone, Padmé felt nothing; her thoughts were suddenly elsewhere.

Images of thousands, millions of corpses all Boranian suddenly flooded her thoughts.

_They must not follow you. _

The oracle's voice echoed in Padmé's mind as she struggled to bury the memory. She had only wanted to help, to protect them from an inevitable fate, to give them a second chance. In the end she became not their savoir, rather their doom.

Years later, the young senator could still see their eyes, so vacant and empty, staring at her in silent accusation. Not a single soul, not even her friend N'a-kee-tula, survived the strange fever that ravaged them without mercy. No physician or medical droid could explain it as the Boranians should have been immune to the disease. They weren't, and in the end neither was Padmé. Padmé survived with only minor damage and the promise that she would never be able to bear children. The Boranian's weren't nearly as fortunate.

_You and I are a lot more alike than you realize. _

The memory of Anakin's words during their journey back to Naboo sent a shiver down Padmé's spine. The all too familiar sense of suffocation began to flood her senses causing her eyes to snap open. Padmé stopped herself just in time to keep from sucking in a mouthful of water as she realized she was far below the water's surface and sinking.

There was no sense of panic, no fear either; only a strange calm. Her lungs burned and begged for air, while her eyes adjusted to her watery surroundings. The current was pulling her under but Padmé did nothing to resist. Looking up she could see the sunlight piercing through the dark waters. It was as mystifying as it was beautiful; it was also fierce. Soon it all began to fade as stars danced behind her eyes.

_Choose carefully, for the weight of an entire world now rest in your hands. _

Bail's words, so strong, so poignant suddenly reminded Padmé of the Jedi padawan. If she died, what would become of him? It wasn't for love that she considered the danger, rather responsibility and if she dared to admit it, fear.

Fear for the innocents who would surely pay for her mistake. Fear for the many lives that would certainly fall prey to the evil she knew Anakin was capable of. Padmé vividly remembered his admittance on Tatooine, the fact he felt no remorse for the Sand people he slaughtered. While some might have been deserving of punishment; Padmé knew most were not.

Her limp body suddenly sprung to life and Padmé began to fight against the powerful currents that threatened to suck her under. Desperately she poured what little energy she had left into breaking the water's surface. Eventually she succeeded and with a new determination the young senator made her way back to the main land.

Only then did it occur to her the power she had over the young man; but with such power came incredible responsibility. Whether she liked it or not Padmé now wielded a weapon, one so unstable that it could destroy not only her, but so many innocents. As much as she longed to rid herself of it, the young senator realized she had no choice. What started as an impish game; a means of spiting Dormé had suddenly turned deadly. Padmé may have proved to herself that she was the better woman, but in then she had to wonder was it really worth the price?

Her body continued to cut through the water like a blade, as her exhausted thoughts mulled over the horrifying discovery. The shore line was within reach, as was her frantic husband who paced the shores in concern. Anakin was never fond of large bodies of water or the rain. Padmé on the other hand was, and now more than ever before, saw it as a means of escape.

Upon reaching the shore line Padmé soon rose to her full petite height; immediately the senator felt the ground spin. Padmé had pushed herself too far and now her body was threatening to betray her for it. She'd be damned if she'd show such weakness before Anakin.

She continued onwards while struggling to blink back the stars which danced in her eyes. Fiercely determined to maintain control, Padmé repeatedly reminded herself that soon she'd be able to rest on one of the large rocks nearby. Padmé's vision continued to blur until the images before her became completely indiscernible, then her vision suddenly cleared or so she thought.

In Anakin's place now stood the strange oracle who had read Padmé's runes on eve of her inauguration. Surrounding the oracle were bodies of the dead; women, men, even children of every race and nationality she could think of, and some she didn't even recognise. There were so many that it was almost hard to discern individuals from the grand mass of corpses. Stunned the young senator could only stare as a shiver ran down her spine, a more horrifying sight she had never witnessed.

Only when her amber eyes met the priest's watchful gaze was Padmé able to regain some semblance of control. She had a sinking feeling she knew who was behind this macabre sight, yet when she opened her mouth to ask, only one word escaped her lips.

"Anakin?"

The oracle slowly shook his head, his dark eyes never wavering from Padmé's troubled gaze.

_They are **your** victims. _

The petite senator's eyes widened in horror and immediately she succumbed to the inky blackness of unconsciousness. 


	8. The Storm

Padmé awoke to the sterile stench of bacta and the piercing lights of the medical lab. Startled she swiftly sat up, her right hand slipping to her side as though expecting her custom laser pistol to be there. It wasn't; but Anakin was, his right hand holding her left like a flesh _manacle. _

Disorientated, her eyes briefly mistook Anakin for another. One quick blink of her eyes and the image of Bail was gone leaving only the padawan in his place. Padmé caught herself just in time before uttering his name. Thankfully it was missed and Anakin quickly broke the silence before the moment had a chance to stagnate.

"Padmé, you're awake!"

The reverence and relief in his voice sent chills down her spine. Anakin squeezed her hand and Padmé was reminded of old legends she heard during her years of training as queen.

Only now it wasn't the gods she pitied, but their mortal lovers, who were in reality little more than beautiful prisoners.

"I was so worried about you. The medics—_iquichan fools_—wouldn't let me see you!

"That was until I _convinced_ them that it wasn't a good idea to keep us apart."

It was a struggle to remain focussed, to fully comprehend what she was hearing leaving Padmé to silently curse the drugs that made her thoughts so groggy and unclear. Anakin's words however, weren't entirely missed.

Just what had he done? Padmé thought in horror. The last time he made his _point,_ an entire village was slaughtered. Suddenly phantoms figures of the dead began to emerge from the corners of the room. Their vacant eyes demanding answers she couldn't give. A shiver ran down her spine and suddenly Padmé felt as though the walls were closing in all around her.

"Ani!—you didn't! Those people, the medics—they were only trying to help!" she gasped. The feeling grew worse and in desperation she glanced away, wishing she could clear her thoughts and erase the images. It was then Padmé's eyes settled upon the face of her deceased friend N'a-kee-tula.

"Padmé? Padmé!"

Anakin's frantic voice sounded a million light years away as Padmé continued to stare, unable to look away as the Boranian watched her with equal intensity.

_So it begins. _

The petite phantom's voice filled the young senator's thoughts without mercy. Padmé struggled to keep her mind clear, to maintain the mask. She had to look away; it wasn't real so why couldn't she just look away?

The doctor's voice broke the reverie and Padmé finally looked away. Quickly she looked back but the phantoms were gone as was her deceased friend. Returning her attentions back to the physician Padmé's promptly widened in shock. In the medics place was the aged carrion face of the oracle who had read her fortune on the eve of her coronation.

Horrified she opened her mouth to scream but the aged _priest_ stopped her as he placed a device over her nose and mouth. With a smile that bordered on vicious Padmé's sight turned dark.

* * *

In her dream he was there, with eyes filled with wisdom and solace. Padmé didn't know why he was here but knew better than to question it. Even the faces of the Boranians that haunted her thoughts so often now seemed a distant memory when Bail was by her side. A smiled crept into her features at the sight of him, but his words soon stole them away.

_'There is no turning back. It has begun Padmé._

Padmé stepped onto the balcony of her Naboo lake house she was relieved to note that Bail was still by her side. She smiled upon noticing that his hand now rested in hers. But she was no fool, this wasn't a vision of peace, but one of warning.

'What should I do? What can I do?'

Padmé whispered, her eyes turning to the horrific sight ahead. A great battle ensued and the bodies of the fallen-flesh and machine alike-littered the ground where the peaceful lake once stood. Padmé didn't need to guess the cause of the great battle, nor did she both questioning why one of Naboo's largest and finest lakes had dried up. The metaphor and symbolism was hard to miss.

'You must remain steadfast. The storm is coming.'

Padmé knew his words were meant to instil a sense of strength and solidarity. All she felt was guilt and fear. The oracles warning from years ago returned to her memory and with it came new greater fears.

'They must not follow me-he must not follow me! The war, our marriage-The Naboo will pay for it—'

It was too late as Bail was fading away into the shadows leaving Padmé alone with the carnage and death that surrounded her lake house. The wind was picking up and soon Padmé felt herself emerging from her dreams. 

As her eyes fluttered open Padmé could hear Bail's final words that had been carried in the wind.

_'There is still hope yet.'_

Beads of cold sweat covered her porcelain brow, as a shiver rand down her spine causing her body to react to the chill. Padmé almost believed the oracles warning, the cryptic coincidences and the supposed visions were all the result of her decision to marry Anakin. Fortunately her practical side knew better and firmly believed that she wasn't important enough to have such an effect.

One thing was certain, she was trapped, and now, so was her people. In her wish to protect the Naboo Padmé had done nothing more than place them into further danger.

The old medic was no where to be found, neither was Anakin. Catching her breath the young senator sighed in relief to the discovery as the soft hum of machines calmed her racing heart.

The sound of voices from the other room filtered in and Padmé recognized the soft accented tones of Sabé. Another wave of relief washed over her as she also caught Saché's much louder voice. Soon they were entering her room, Sabé with her gentle look of concern and Saché with her more obvious look of worried annoyance.

"Just what were you thinking? Swimming laps until you dropped from exhaustion? Great way to get yourself killed!"

Padmé smiled despite herself, hardly surprised by Saché's outburst. She wondered for the umpteenth time how calm Captain Typho ever got along with Saché; they were such opposites. It was a fleeing thought, one that quickly faded at the sight of Sabé's silent troubled expression.

Sabé expression didn't bode well, neither did Saché's sudden need to be silent. Padmé knew they weren't here out of her personal interest. Had she had been a lesser woman she might have been hurt but Padmé was accustom to such things and expected nothing less of them. As a former Naboo queen there was little time or trust for the existence of true friendship. It was a small price to pay, one she some times still secretly regretted.

"What news do you bring me?"

She asked; her voice weary but determined. Immediately both handmaidens were all business; professional without hesitation.

"Milady, with the recent vote that has granted Chancellor Palpatine, supreme powers over the republic-," Sabé began carefully.

"-Senator Binks has been murdered," Saché cut in earning a sharp, but silent glare from Sabé. Though Padmé appreciated Sabé's need to be gentle about the news in that moment she was grateful for Saché's need to get to the point.

However the news Padmé caught Padmé entirely off guard, leaving her torn between concern and anger.

"Senator Binks was a junior representative, not even an official senator! Killing him was not only pointless, but pathetic! What did they hope to accomplish?" Padmé balked.

"Has the perpetrator been located? Or is the investigation still underway?" she continued unable to ignore the sinking feeling that the worst was yet to come. She was right.

"Queen Jamilla believes Senator Binks was acting against your wishes as do the general populace. As a result our intelligence has done little, if anything, to further investigate the murder or bring the perpetrator to justice.

"The Gungan have since regarded this course of action as an act of war," Sabé explained in soft tones.

It was hard to ignore the sorrow in Sabé's amber eyes that belied her stoic expression. It was even more difficult for Padmé to ignore the cold whisper of her thoughts.

_You are the bearer of death. _

Padmé shivered to the memory of the oracles words and quickly tried to bury the foreboding thought.

Saché proceeded to explain of the Naboo human's support of Padmé's opinions of the military act and the Gungan's decision to end the peace treaty and the war that had now begun; all over a murder that wasn't handled as it should have been. It was hard to imagine two peaceful cultures succumbing to such violence, yet Padmé couldn't deny that it was real.

Though the humans and the Gungan's had their peace treaties, the violent and jaded history shared between them had begun to surface in recent years placing a heavy strain on the peace agreements. Deep down Padmé knew that one day the treaty would dissolve, but never could she have imagined it would end over something so pointless.

But then she recalled her parting words to the Gungan politician and the advice given. Had she not advised him to listen to the _wisdom_ of his fellow senators and the Chancellor he wouldn't have agreed to the military act. Padmé knew that Jar Jar had looked up to her-especially when it came to politics-and knew that he had paid the price for it.

Now for the first time in as many millennia Naboo was at war. Not in the name of democracy, freedom or even the Republic. As unbelievable as it was to fathom Padmé knew ultimately they were fighting to honour her name, now they were needlessly dying for it. She tried to ignore the haunting memory of the oracles words again but despite her best efforts it could not be ignored.

_In your name they will suffer. In your name they will perish. _

For the first time in her life she didn't the answers she so desperately needed. Padmé wasn't sure if she ever would.

Saché continued to speak but her words fell on deaf ears as Padmé's found herself struggling not to stare at the glassy eyed phantoms of her victims that now watched her from the other side of the room. Nor could she drown out the sounds of their silent screams or the whispered curses of the oracle.

The storm had just begun and Padmé knew that the worst had yet to come.


	9. The Truth

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. None of it.

* * *

Despite what she had told her handmaidens, or even the Chancellor it wasn't business that brought Padmé to the lower levels of Coruscant. It was out of desperation, and if she was honest with herself, guilt as well.

On the surface Padmé appeared to be the self-sufficient senator. Very few were aware of her true relationship status. Those who did know never once questioned or even suspected, that it had made her into the unwitting prisoner of their great war hero; Anakin Skywalker. But after three very long war torn years Padmé Amidala knew it was time to finally end the façade.

It was out of practicality that she chose to enter the lower sectors under the guise of her handmaiden Dormé. None of the others handmaidens, save Moteé-who looked nothing like Padmé- ever frequented the more colourful sides of Coruscant.

Hardly the sort of place she'd normally wish to visit, Padmé knew only here could one do business without drawing the attention of security or republic law.

Tonight she sought out her contact; a nameless man whose skills would ensure that no one ever found evidence of her marriage to Anakin.

She had first learnt of the Alderaanian infilterator while following an investigation pertaining to recent breeches made in several security systems. The man left no trail of his actions and even managed to find a way to ensure his competition carried the blame. Soren was still tracking him down. While Padmé would normally assisted where she could, in this instance she chose to use the information Typho had collected for her personal use instead.

The fact he had been able to slip past her security captain spoke volumes, for this reason Padmé decided this man was her last best hope to end the catastrophe that was her marriage.

Wandering the lower levels of Coruscant wasn't the safest plan but Padmé was hardly unprepared. Her laser pistol hung on her hip, while an unmarked dagger remained hidden in her boot. Padmé's only concern was that her contact wouldn't be where he said he would.

Passing by the flashing lights of clubs and lounges Padmé silently took it all in. Many promised strong drinks, clean dust and the fulfilment of every man or woman's sexual fantasy. But it was potent scent of icoti, old food and stale drinks that caused her stomach to turn.

Whispering a curse under her breath, Padmé fought back the nausea and dizziness that followed. It had been over a week since she fallen under the weather and it showed no signs of letting up. She knew it would be wise to see a medic, but with memories of her collapse three years ago still fresh in her mind, Padmé deemed it unnecessary. After all, she was a woman who didn't accept personal weakness and was loathed to have others, especially strangers, witness it either. It would pass, it always did.

'And if it doesn't, then what?'

As she fought down the nausea her amber eyes caught sight of her reflection in the window of an entertainment club. Padmé couldn't ignore how pale and gaunt she looked. Despite what she thought the illness was taking its toll, as was her duties. With so many public and secret meetings, attacks and subterfuge missions, the senator had little time to herself and even less for resting.

From behind an arm slipped around her petite waist; while the stench of stale icoti and beer accosted her senses.

"Hey babe, haven't seen you here in a while!"

Immediately the illness faded away as raw instinct gripped Padmé's psyche. Her fist slammed into the man's stomach; a moment later the man was pressed up against the glass, with her laser pistol pressed between his eyes.

"Oh frak me! Look lady I thought you were someone else alright? No need to play rough!"

Her amber eyes burned into the man's blue orbs, and all Padmé could feel was disgust and hatred for the man. Suddenly it wasn't a strange Corellian man she was staring down, but her unsuspecting husband.

Yet the Anakin before her, wasn't the oppressing great hero with no fear, or the cocky warrior she had seen so often on the holo-news. He was small and insignificant, and completely off his guard.

As Padmé stared him down could almost taste his fear; to her surprise, it was exhilarating. One pull of the trigger and it would all be over. Never again would she fear the day he learnt the truth, or the many lives that would pay for her mistake. She would be free and he would become nothing more than an awful memory.

"Please lady, go easy on me! I just thought you were this girl I know, okay?-"

The man's pleas forced the young senator out of her morbid thoughts just in time for her to notice that he was carefully reaching for his gun. Without a second thought the former queen lowered her pistol and shot at his hand just as he was to grab his weapon.

The Corellian's screamed and cursed but Padmé didn't pay it heed as she silently turned and walked away; disappearing into the crowd as though she was never there.

'We aren't so different, you and I'

Anakin's voice echoed in her thoughts and suddenly Padmé was reminded of the Tuskan Raiders, of the Boranians, and the man she had almost killed. It was all too much, and soon Padmé was rushing towards the side alley where she was to meet her contact. But as she approached her meeting point the ground spun beneath her feet violently causing the senator's eyes rolled to the back of her head as her body fell limp.

In the inky blackness of her unconsciousness Padmé could sense that Bail was there. She could almost hear his voice and knew that he was near. But when she reached out to take Bail's hand it wasn't her name that he spoke.

'Dormé?—You alright? Dormé, can you hear me?'

Padmé slowly stirred awake to the echo of Bail's voice calling Dormé's name. Her heart sank as her eyes fluttered open. Even in dreams it seemed the young handmaiden had the upper hand.

But the scruffy Alderaanian wasn't Bail, and the name he spoke was none other than Padmé's alias. Immediately her thoughts moved forward as she swiftly sat up.

"You okay? Here let me help you-what happened? You look like puta!" the man said in concern as he helped her to her feet.

"There's a clinic nearby if you like I can take you there," he kindly offered.

Of all the low level scum, I just had to find the one good soul to do business with, Padmé thought to herself.

Resisting the urge to openly sigh in irritation, Padmé politely shook her head. She discovered a little too late just why it wasn't a good idea. Wincing in pain she gingerly touched the back of her head and discovered she was bleeding.

"I'm fine, thank you," she stiffly replied.

The man whom she soon discovered was her contact, wasn't convinced and refused to cooperate until she agreed to get some help. Padmé finally relented, deciding that it didn't matter if he witnessed this moment of weakness, because the man believed her to be Dormé instead.

Recalling the roll she was meant to play, Padmé's expression immediately softened. Apologizing profusely for her abrupt behavior Padmé soon explained what his job would entail.

"You are certain you want to go through with this?" he asked in serious tones upon hearing her request.

"It has to be done. There is just so much at risk that we can't afford to have someone find out," Padmé explained playing up her role of the helpless handmaiden.

"If the Order learns of our marriage it is certain they will cast him out, and if my mistress learns of it; I too, will be out of a job! Nevermind the scandal--."

One of the first things Padmé had learnt about politics was the art of masking the truth. The key was to remain as close as possible to the truth and always remember your lies.

With this in mind Padmé went on to explain her situation and plight. Convincing the man proved to be easier than expected; he understood all too well the prices paid for mistakes made in one's youth.

"Erasing the evidence will be easy. Removing the witness on the other hand, will be a little more complicated."

Padmé stared at the man in disbelief. "Removing? I didn't say I wanted the priest murdered! I only wanted the files of our marriage erased!"

"Listen kid, I appreciate your need to keep your hands clean, but if the jedi suspect something-anything at all-they'll have no trouble making him confess.

"If there's one thing the dead don't do, its talk."

Only moments ago Padmé had come so close to killing a man who had done nothing wrong, save mistake her for another. Now the fate of another innocent rested in her hands.

'You cross that line, and there will be no turning back,' her thoughts warned.

'But he's the sole witness! The only one who truly has the power to ruin everything!' Padmé frantically thought to herself.

Glancing away she drew in a deep breath, her eyes scanning across the alleyway till they caught sight of shadows that looked far too familiar. Reminded of the lifeless Boranians she had left behind Padmé's memories took another turn.

'I killed them all. They're dead, every single one of them. And not just the men, but the women and the children, too. They're like animals, and I slaughtered them like animals!'

Padmé shuddered she tried to bury the echo of Anakin's voice. Padmé knew she was better than that; she was better than him.

Closing her eyes she sighed softly, before meeting the man's concerned gaze. Her head continued to throb and Padmé could feel herself growing dizzy again, this time she suspected it was from the wound.

"Do it if you must, but only if it's absolutely necessary. Even then, please be kind—let his passing be peaceful and swift," she said softly before wincing as her head continued to pulsate violently. Perhaps a trip to the nearby clinic wasn't such a bad idea after all.

It wasn't long after that Padmé found herself being escorted to a rather old, but well kept volunteer medical facility. After thanking her contact for his kindness she made it clear that she would be fine from there on in. With great reluctance the man complied.

Padmé closed her eyes as the medical droids began to perform their standard scans. A painkiller was soon injected into her throat and with it her pounding headache began to fade away.

"Looks like your suffering from a minor concussion. Had quite a fall did you?" asked an older physician who looked to be a near human of some sort.

"—I ran into trouble," Padmé, who was still posing as Dormé, confessed. The doctor clucked her tongue as she shook her head. "You're lucky to even be alive. Around these parts very few live long enough to speak of trouble when they run into it," she admitted in concerned tones. Padmé could only nod in reply as the medical droids took a sample of her blood.

After a series of questions and some painful applications of bacta, Padmé began to wonder if she would ever be able to leave. The physician's concerned expression as she spoke with another medical droid on the other side of the room was hardly comforting either. After what felt like an eternity, the elderly physician returned.

"I've got good news and bad news," she explained with a kind smile. Padmé raised a brow but said nothing as she watched the woman intently.

"I'll start with the bad and end with the good. Much easier to swallow the bad, when you have something good to look forward to right?" she said in cheerful tones. Confused the young senator could only nod.

"The bad news is—your underweight and in desperate need of some nutrients." Hardly a surprise for Padmé who had been living off of water and salt crackers for over a week; anything else refused to stay down.

"The good news is, the embryos are doing just fine-"

"Embryos?" Padmé couldn't believe what she was hearing and in horror she stared at the woman as the colour drained from her face. "As in—baby?"

The physician chuckled as she nodded glancing down at her data pad. "Yes ma'am, they're six weeks along to be exact.

"Gave me a bit of a scare at first, especially after reading your levels. But with the extra boost of nutrients I gave you, I think they're going to be back on track in no time—"

The woman continued to prattle on as Padmé felt her heart drop to her stomach. This wasn't possible, it couldn't be possible! The Boranian fever she had as a child had left her barren had it not?

As though reading her thoughts the doctor explained that despite her history of having the fever, it was still possible to bear children.

"It's a rare to say the least, and your pregnancy is most likely to become high risk but it is possible to carry them to term," the doctor kindly explained.

Padmé thought of all the times she had sacrificed her dignity so that Anakin could sate his passions with her. With the war it had always been far and few between. In the end it didn't matter, all that was needed was one heated moment for all her plans to be completely ruined.

In the back of her mind she could almost hear the sound of the oracles laughter and biting her lip she fought back the urge to scream or weep. ****


	10. The Facade

**Two month's later**.

Padmé didn't think about how she got there or who was supposed to _save_ her or the fact that she didn't need to be saved. All she could think about was the life within her, and the fact it wasn't meant to be in the first place.

There was no love felt for the child, only frustration and the haunting memory of Bail's words, the private confession that only Breha and herself now knew.

Her enemy were swiftly approaching, the heat of their laser shots burned her skin as they met the walls on either side.

Padmé had known all along it would be a trap. What she hadn't expected was the concern felt for a child that she had planned to remove.

Everything had been set in motion. From private arrangements with the medical droid, to the procedure, even her cover up. Every little possibility was taken into consideration, even the details pertaining to the med droid's memory wipe. There was no room for error, no possibility of anyone ever finding out. It would have been just one more secret.

_We've always wanted to have children-Breha used to dream of having a daughter--I never really had a preference. I suppose it's one dream we'll never know. _

With those words everything changed. The little life growing within her had become something far greater and more important than just a nuisance to be done away with.

Though she couldn't admit this to Bail-certainly not yet-Padmé promised herself that she would do all she could to ensure that the baby was born healthy and strong. Nevertheless, given the circumstances she knew it would be easier said than done.

Her lungs burned and her legs throbbed, but Padmé didn't stop running. Doing so meant certain death. If the supreme chancellor was sincere about his promise to send back up he was more than welcome to have them arrive at any time. The thought was immediately banished, she already knew who would be coming.

As she slipped around the corner Padmé found herself in yet another sterile looking hall. Briefly, disorientated she took no time in getting her bearings. She could hear the sound of heavy boots pounding against the durasteel floor growing steadily louder. They were approaching and quickly.

The comm channel that rested a short distance away, left Padmé to deduce that she was in the hallways that led to the Command and Control center. The doors to her left and right held little promise of a quick route to the hanger bay. But there was no time for second guessing and so she chose the furthest one on her left.

Slipping inside the young senator found herself in a commander's office. Spartan in design, in many ways it reminded Padmé of her own quarters. Having lived a life on the move personal belongings were usually gifts from family, friends and even admirers.

Of the little furniture in the room only the lone comm channel caught her full attention. While she wasn't nearly as skilled with technology as Anakin, the former queen wasn't without her tricks.

Deft manicured fingers danced over the keyboard as she sought to override the ships security systems. Another code enabled her to access his classified files. Using one of the commanders storage chips Padmé soon had downloaded them all. Though it only took seconds, for her it felt like an eternity.

Her fingers nervously tapped against the desk to the tune of a song she hadn't heard since she was a little girl.

_Your pride will be your undoing. In your desire for control, you will only unleash chaos. _

A shiver ran down her spine as she thought of the life growing within her. Padmé wished there was a way she could remove it, to step away and leave it all behind. It was too late for that now, she had chosen this fate and now it was time to face it.

The computer bleeped marking its completion just as the door behind her slid open. Instinctively she grabbed the small chip and hid it up the sleeve of her shirt. Whirling around Padmé aimed the laser pistol she had stolen from one of the droids during her escape.

"Echuta-we! Are you trying to get me killed?"

Padmé's eyes grew wide to the sound of Anakin's voice. Padmé took note that she caught her husband's left shoulder. Had it not been for his training and force sensitivity Padmé knew she would have killed him. A part of her desperately wished she had. The thought was buried before she could consciously register them.

"Ani--I'm so sorry I thought you were--" she began.

"It's alright-I would have done the same," Anakin said through clenched teeth as he approached her. Padmé forced herself not to stiffen to Anakin's touch as he slipped his good arm around her.

"Anakin your arm---I should look at it," she suggested not wanting to remain in his embrace for long. Padmé could almost hear the sound of children's wailing as the memory of Anakin's voice echoed in her thoughts.

_You and I are more alike than you realize. _

Distracting herself from the strange thoughts Padmé by slipped out of his grasp to examine his wound. Though it was deep, it was clean. The bone hadn't been pierced.

"You're probably going to need stitches," she surmised in business like tones upon examining Anakin's wound. It was easier to wear the mask of a senator than that of a wife. Fortunately, for her Anakin was too distracted by their situation to notice her distant behaviour, or the strangeness of her Force aura.

"Nevermind that! What matters is that we get you out of here!" he replied. Padmé could only nod silently in reply.

Padmé forced herself not to think of the real reasons behind her wish to depart. Or the growing concern that Anakin would learn of the pregnancy either through her thoughts, or worse through the child's energies.

_You need to tell him; he has the right to know!_

Anakin's hands slipped into her own forcing her thoughts forward. Soon Padmé was following him back into the halls. For once she didn't mind his overbearing presence. It ensured that her thoughts remained clear and the mental walls were kept firmly in place.

With great care she side stepped the broken droids and their human counterparts that laid strewn about the hallways. She didn't want to even guess what Anakin had done to them before they found solace in death. Anakin was not a man known for his mercy.

Despite the jedI knight's presence and his obvious taste for violence, Padmé's captors continued their assault. They couldn't seem to understand or comprehend that they didn't stand a chance. More shots were fired and instincts soon took control. Anakin seemed to relish the battle, his shoulder wound, for the moment, forgotten.

Padmé however didn't share his blood lust, such things were just too barbaric for her tastes or so she told herself. It reminded her too much of her own mistakes, and her recent, desperate attempt to rectify them.

Dodging laser shots the senator raced down the halls while Anakin remained behind to tackle the droids. Normally Padmé would have remained behind if only to help. But Bail's words haunted her thoughts reminding her of the small life within and so she sought safety first. It wasn't just about her any more, it was about something far greater, and far more selfless.

Padmé didn't get very far when she heard the sound of light footsteps behind her. Preparing for the worst she was about to aim the pistol when Anakin's voice forced her to stand down.

"Padmé wait up! The ship's this way!"

In another time, another place she might have been touched by the jedI kinght's boyish smile, or at least amused by his eagerness to join her side. Yet all she felt was barely controlled repulsion and fear. She could almost see that boyish grin as he slaughtered his prey, and hear his laughter as he tore down his victims. Just as she could almost feel the way he used his Force powers to throw her into an elevator the last time they were together.

Unable to respond, Padmé just followed Anakin to the hanger bay. _The Azure Angel_ waited for them and at the sight of it she felt a new sense of guilt. Padmé could still remember Anakin's excitement at having built it from scratch. His talents were only matched by his ignorance.

As the young knight helped her into his ship Padmé could almost hear the old crone's warning. It was over wasn't it?

As much as Padmé wanted to tell Anakin that their marriage was over, she knew now was not the time. Anakin would not take to the news and she was certain he would lash out. If he didn't kill her it was certain he would kill the child without even realizing its existence. After Anakin's admittance on Tatooine, Padmé knew that life had little meaning when he was angered.

She didn't fear Anakin any more, in fact a part of her wanted to challenge him. The young senator knew that if he did succumb to his bloodlust her passing would do nothing more than encourage an uprising.

Even so, she couldn't bring herself to destroy the one dream her dear friend believed was no longer his to embrace and so she kept up the façade. Had it not been for Bail's words, or the sorrowful longing she had heard in his voice, Padmé knew she would have taken the risk. Even if it would have cost her life.

Activating the ship Anakin prepared it to launch. Without hesitation he shot out the hanger bay doors just as more droids began to filter into the hanger bay. Their laser shots strafed the ship, but did little damage as _The Azure Angel_ was soon out of their range. With great skill young knight dodged and weaved through the destroyers that fired off endless waves of laser shots at them.

"Hang on! We're almost there!" Anakin with a proud smile. Padmé immediately smiled back. Deep down she wondered if this was how the Boranian's felt when her team had tried to _rescue_ them years ago.

_How can you be so certain this move will not mark our demise? What if this new planet you speak of, is even more deadly to us than even our own homeworld?_

The elder Boranians had always been doubtful of her plan. In the end they accepted her plans, simply because their people believed in her.

It wasn't long after the exodus that Padmé understood their reasoning and their fears. Their suspicions had been correct all along. Only after their demise did Padmé fully understand just how misplaced their faith in her had been. Now as she sat next to the republics _greatest hope,_ the young senator wondered if she too, would pay a similar price.

Had she in her desperation to amend past mistakes only secured her own undoing?

Padmé nearly jumped as the ship's computer broke through her thoughts politely announcing that it was entering a state of auto pilot. Their set course would be Coruscant's upper levels, senatorial districts.

Before Padmé had a chance to prepare herself, Anakin's arms were encompassing her while his lips eagerly sought out her exposed skin. As much as she wanted to push him away, or worst slap him across the face and demand he control himself, the young woman didn't dare.

Anakin was considered the most physically powerful and dangerous known being in the republic. To Padmé he was more than a renowned hero, a famous pilot or even a prophecy. Anakin was a weapon, one that she had no right to control or to hold captive. Unfortunately it wasn't that simple anymore. Anakin believed that he loved her, and in his mind Padmé loved him in turn. Though the young knight had yet to realize it, Padmé knew his affections had nothing to do with love, and everything to do with control.

She could still remember how he tried to showcase his _affections_ in the past. How volatile he became and aggressive. Their supposed sessions of intimacy had become a battleground of another sort. Even his attempts to protect her would inevitably leave Padmé wounded by his own hand.

Padmé still bore the bruises from the last time he tried to _protect_ her –by tossing her into a turbo-lift. Only now they were starting to fade. It still amazed her that somehow the child survived. Yet despite her surprise and relief, Padmé couldn't ignore the fact that it wasn't the first time he had done this to her. Padmé also knew it wouldn't be the last.

At one time she would have laughed at the possibility of Anakin having control over her. How could someone so simple minded keep her captive against her own will? Fate had a cruel way of ensuring that everything came full circle.

Closing her eyes Padmé forced herself to return his passionate kisses and his wandering touch. Though she tried to bury her thoughts and fears, the former queen swore she could hear the sound of the old crone's cruel laughter and the sound of a million voices weeping. The worst was far from over.


	11. The Game

Upon discovering that she was, carrying twins Padmé became painfully aware of new complications. It seemed the more she tried to bury the past the more determined it was to haunt her. Though she had learned to cope with changes her body was now undergoing the past few months had been difficult on her; both emotionally and physically. Now her due date was rapidly approaching and Padmé knew she had to act fast to ensure everything she had worked for would fall into place as planned.

"Are you certain you wish to go through with this? Once the children are given over you will never be able to speak or see them again," the physician explained in calm tones. Padmé nodded in reply. She was only too aware of the price she had to pay.

"It isn't common for a mother to choose the adoptive family without their knowledge or consent. In fact this could be considered quite illegal."

"Let me be the judge of that doctor," she replied in stoic tones. It did little to ease her concerns knowing that the physician opposed of her decision. The last thing she needed was for the man to get security involved or worse the public. Padmé couldn't afford a scandal, certainly not one of this astronomical proportion.

"What of the father? Surely he has--"

The young senator struggled not to visibly bristle at his words. Remembering her role, she allowed unshed tears come to her amber eyes. Shaking her head Padmé struggled to find the words--and the _mask_ to play out the role of the victim.

"No, I--it wasn't---he was such a monster--" she stammered out as she tried to block out horrific memories. Padmé could still recall the last time Anakin shared her bed; it had been volatile, and almost violent. Two powerful bodies seeking to dominate, if not break the other. The shiver that ran down her spine was not an act. In truth, neither was her fear.

Having spent long hours studying up on such horrific incidents, Padmé learned about the victims and their recovery. It had been to ensure her story would come across as plausible, if not believable. At one time, it was meant to buy her a means of removing them. Now it was to ensure that they were placed into the right home.

"I'm terribly sorry milady. My utmost condolences, I truly hope the cretin is captured and punished."

The doctor's sincere compassion left her feeling uncomfortable and guilty. She hated having to lie about the pregnancy but knew the price her twins would pay if she didn't. Burying her guilt and shame, Padmé reminded herself that all of this was for the safety of her children.

Dabbing her eyes with a tissue the medic offered her; Padmé shook her head as apologized. "I'm terribly sorry I didn't mean to upset you.

"It has been a trying few months and--it is for this reason utmost secrecy is necessary. If the adoptive family were to learn of the children's identity or worse--the scandal would be horrendous--"

_A queen must be without weakness or flaw. A queen must be wise, yet compassionate, invulnerable and yet merciful. A queen must be the embodiment of all that is Naboo…_

Padmé faltered as the words of the high priests echoed in her mind. Drawing in a shaky breath, she struggled to clear her thoughts, to ignore the taunting memory of the past. She wasn't the innocent, naïve child any longer. This time the decisions of her future were hers, and hers alone, to make.

"If the public were to learn of what happened---" she began only to pause again. Her fingers nervously tapped against her lap. There was no turning back now.

"They need me to be strong, now more than ever. I ask you to keep this a secret, not only for my family's good name, but also for the hope of the Naboo people.

"If they were to learn that someone as protected and trained as myself can--be violated--their faith in our security our protectorates will be deeply shaken. In these troubling times we can't afford such demoralization," Padmé explained softly.

The doctor didn't question the matter further and promised to help where he could. Placing a hand to her shoulder, he gave it a squeeze as he met the senator's troubled, dark gaze.

"You are a brave soul to be enduring such a burden alone."

His words were meant to assure her. All they did was fill her with doubts and self-disgust. If only he knew.

"I am of royal blood. It is my duty to stand alone."

Her voice sounded tired and wistful even to her own ears. The doctor said nothing more as he politely gave her the data pads necessary, while informing her of the legalities involved. Padmé didn't need to read the details for she had already looked into the matter. The physician however, wasn't aware of her additional -if not less than legal- homework and so the former queen continued to play the act of ignorance.

Putting on her cloak Padmé thanked the elder man and stepped out into the night. In less than a month, she would have the babies and the Organas would have their prayers answered. It was the only gift she had ever given Bail.

The journey home after such visits was never simple. Transitions from the eastern, lower sectors of Coruscant to the upper, senatorial levels always took time. There were handmaidens to stand in for her, costumes to change into, and appearances to be kept. It was a lot of work, but Padmé didn't dare try to falter when it came to such details. These details ensured she would be able to tend to her past mistakes without the risk of defamation or scandal.

"Where have you been?"

The sound of Anakin's voice was the first thing Padmé heard upon entering the her unlit private quarters. Had it not been for years of training she would have been caught completely off guard. However, she was used to Anakin's surprise visits and his perverse desire to catch her unawares. Though the room was dark, she could feel his eyes burning into her from the shadows where he stood.

"I was with the baby's physician Anakin," she replied smoothly, while moving to activate the lights.

"In the lower sectors of Coruscant? While posing as a handmaiden?"

The accusation was clear in his dark tones. Padmé struggled to ignore the hair that now stood on the back of her neck. Anakin wasn't supposed to know that little detail.

Just as she reached out to turn on the light a strong Anakin caught her wrist. The heat of his breath grazed her cheek, smelling of desert spices and unspoken threats. Not about to be intimidated Padmé moved to wrench her wrist free, her temperament turning stormy. Had it not been for the babies she would have fought harder. Their safety was now the greatest of her concerns.

"Ani, what are you doing?" she demanded. In the past, Anakin's foul temperament always waned whenever she confronted him on it. Yet ever since the supreme chancellor 's rescue and the news of her pregnancy, Anakin's mood had grown increasingly foul. First, it was directed at the separatists for keeping them apart, then the jedi council for their poor treatment of him, and now her.

"Let go of me Anakin," she continued in dark tones as her free hand slipped to the hidden hilt of her laser pistol. Her eyes never once wavered from his stormy blue orbs.

"Tell me Padmé-where were you, really?"

Padmé could feel the burning fury beneath his calm tones but wasn't intimidated by it. For once she was telling the truth and she wasn't about to back down from it. Instead, she tried another approach.

"Anakin, please you're hurting me!" she pleaded as his grip tightened. Anakin scowled but didn't let go of his grip. Padmé's own fingers tightened around the grip of her gun.

"Tell me who you were really seeing!"

It was ironic to think, only hours ago, Anakin was excitedly talking about their _family_ and the future of their child.

At the time, Padmé was startled by his elated reaction. She had expected him to be furious, or at the very least unhappy. A part of her had hoped he would be-it would have made the rest of her news easier. His joy however, ensured the details of the adoption were kept to her.

"Our baby's medic! Is it such a crime to ensure our child's healthy?" She demanded. Anakin never replied, the look in his eyes told her that there would be no reasoning with him, not this time.

A sudden pressure was felt against her temples, causing Padmé to wince. Years of meditations and basic mind training ensured she could resist the mental attack for a little while. Anakin was much more powerful and entirely relentless. The pressure rapidly grew until Padmé felt as though her skull would be crushed under the unseeing vice like grip. It wasn't the first time he pierced through her mental barriers, but until tonight he had never gone this far.

The room began to spin as the pain consumed her every thought. Riding on instincts alone, the former queen placed the barrel of her laser pistol to Anakin's throat. The setting was set on lethal ,and the safety was turned off.

"You wouldn't dare," Anakin hissed, as his eyes bore into hers. In the darkness, they seemed to glow a sickly yellow.

_"Your passion Padmé is that of a metal blade. You too, are powerful, deadly and beautiful. You say your life is filled with apologies, but not once have you ever apologized for who you are –nor should you."_

At the memory of Tamé's words, Padmé felt a calm come over her. Holding Anakin's poisoned gaze she spoke in deadly calm tones.

"You do anything to hurt us-anything at all, and I swear on the creator I will kill you myself."

In that moment, she was no longer the divided and guilt-ridden senator, nor the insecure, frantic mother. Suddenly she felt as though she were the moon goddess Shiraya about to unleash her righteous vengeance. Padmé had made many mistakes in her young life. Protecting the children from their abusive father would not be one of them.

Her words of warning didn't have the effect she had hoped. With unnatural speed, Anakin's hands gripped the sides of her arms sending her body slamming against the back wall of the room. Crying out in shock Padmé watched in horror as he used the Force to release the pistol from her hand. Spitting out a curse she struggled beneath his grip, her dark eyes flashing in rage and indignation.

"I'm sick of your games! I'm sick of your lies!" Anakin growled as his grip on her arms tightened. Padmé knew better than to argue when he was in such a state. It didn't stop her from fighting back.

"Let go of me Ani!" she hissed back. Despite the awkward state of her body, Padmé's movements were agile as she wrapped a foot around the Jedi's ankle causing him to lose his balance. His sudden attack had put him in an precarious position and despite his ability of intuition; Anakin tumbled to the floor.

Padmé didn't bother waiting for his reaction. Grabbed her weapon the senator made her way to the front door. The jedi however, was much faster.

Without warning, Anakin pulled her into his arms with such ferocity that she cried out in shock. The kiss that followed was nothing short of violent. Padmé struggled beneath the young man's embrace, as the taste of iron filled her mouth. The sting of her broken lips was ignored as she tried to position her laser pistol against his torso. His rough hands swiftly yanked it away and tossed it out of reach.

"No games tonight Padmé," he said in throaty tones causing a chill of fear to run down her spine. Was this how it would end? Closing her eyes, she tried to clear her panicked thoughts. She could almost hear the sound of the crone's laughter mocking her and her terrible predicament.

Frowning she buried her fears and ordered her hands to respond as required of her. She then forced her lips to once more lock with Anakin's own. This time it wasn't Bail's arms she imagined herself in, rather she focussed entirely on the fact that it was Anakin who now hungrily explored her body, and kissed her flesh.

There was no love found in his touch, or his kisses. There was none to be found in hers either. Padmé was not a woman who easily relinquished control and she'd be damned if she didn't break him to her will first. As their actions took on a more passionate, if not violent turn, a familiar voice hissed into her ear causing her to gasp in shock.

_He is not yours to have. He's mine! _

Her eyes snapped open and immediately focussed on the edge of her bed to the lone shadowed figure who watched on in anger. It was none other than her handmaiden and decoy Dormé. Horrified Padmé opened her mouth to speak, to demand that she leave. Yet as soon as her eyes registered the identity of the furious handmaiden, the young woman was gone, melded into the shadows as though she had never been there.

Suddenly it felt as though the walls around her were closing in. As though her body and spirit were being consumed by Anakin's rage and lust. Gone was the need to break the man she once claimed as her own, and the need to exert her power over him. All that mattered was ending this madness and getting away.

As though sensing her fears and shame, the young jedi suddenly stopped and pushed away from her. His expression was confused, fearful, and riddled with guilt. It was a perfect reflection of her own visage.

Neither moved as their eyes held one another's gaze. Though not a word was spoken an understanding seemed to pass between them. In that moment, Padmé knew that Anakin finally understood what she had known all along.

As soon as she saw the recognition and realization in his blue eyes, it was gone. In the past, Anakin had never ceased to amaze her with his delusions and tonight was no different. Before he had a chance to slip his arms around her, to speak the apologies he always did after losing himself to his inner demons, Padmé clambered out of the bed and retired to the fresher.

As her shaking hands slipped to her swollen womb, her eyes met the haunted reflection that stared back at her in the mirror. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Padmé could hear the echo of Sabé's voice speaking the words she once told her on the eve of her coronation.

_Only you can decide the path you must take to fulfil your destiny. No one else can choose it for you. It is the one burden we must all face alone._

Deep down Padmé knew what had to be done. The question remained, would she have enough time to see it through?

Little did the former queen realize that events far beyond her control would do more than afford her time, it would answer her every desperate prayer.


	12. The Gambit

"Are you certain you want to do this?"

Sabé was too polite to speak her mind. The senator knew what she really wanted to say.

Padmé nodded in reply as she accepted the tiny capsule from the former decoy. She had never been more certain of anything in her life.

It had taken her months to prepare, to erase the evidence of their marriage, to find a toxin that would not harm her children but provide her with the necessary escape. Padmé did not know when she would have to set these plans in motion but kept herself prepared nonetheless.

After the horrific experience of the night before Padmé knew the time had come.

"You do realize that you may never be able to see your children again."

The senator closed her eyes and forced her thoughts to clear. She knew all to well the price she was about to pay and knew that there would be time enough to mourn. Drawing in a deep breath, she shoved the tiny capsule into the hidden pocket of her collar and buried her emotions. She would not falter, not anymore.

Distracting herself from her thoughts Padmé tied the belt of her laser pistol holster beneath her swollen waist and placed a dagger into the hidden compartment of her boot.

Padmé was no fool, she had watched first hand as Anakin made his descent into madness. Just as she watched as the noose that bound her to him tightened. There was no anger left in her now, only sorrow at what he had become, and self-hatred in the fact she had contributed to it.

She could still see Anakin's face-eyes practically glowing with bloodlust-the stench of smoke and death on his garbs as he assured her that he all right, that the jedi were the one guilty of all crimes.

Padmé played her role as the concerned, fearful lover well enough that he did not suspect.

With Anakin off to settle unfinished business, and Master Kenobi departure, Padmé was quick to set things in motion. It was a great risk, one that involved meticulous and careful planning. She did not let herself think about the dangers posed to the lives she carried. She could not afford to back out, not now.

_"Through your peace you will usher in an era of war and chaos. Through your wisdom you will unleash an evil so terrible, entire planets will crumble in its wake."_ The oracle's voice echoed in her mind, reminding Padmé of the lengths she had gone to undo the mistakes she had made.

_Tonight it ends. Tonight we will both be free. _

"He will kill you Padmé. You know what he capable of-" Sabé began, reminding Padmé of Obi-Wan's warning.

It should not have surprised her, yet it had, and even now, she was baffled by the horrific truth.

_ Younglings. _ He had slaughtered younglings.

"I cannot stand by and let him do this." She replied in stoic tones. They already had this conversation but Sabé still felt it was not over. Padmé had to admire her head handmaiden's loyalty and determination to protect her and the lives she carried. Such nobility was unheard of these days.

"Your children are being placed in grave danger, milady. Master Obi-Wan did say that Skywalker had killed those younglings. Is it really that far for him to murder an expectant mother?"

Sabé was right, but Padmé _knew_ that he would not harm these children. She had to believe it, to do otherwise would mean facing the fact that she too had crossed a line that she promised she never would.

The hollow sound of the oracles laughter echoed in her mind causing her to briefly falter. She did not catch Sabé's concerned look as she found herself staring at the pale faces of the Boranians that watched her with empty eyes from the shadows of the room.

"He won't. In his mind we _belong_ to him. He will not hurt what is _his_ and _ his_ alone," Padmé concluded in almost fierce tones. She forced herself to ignore the tricks her mind continued to play on her. There would be time enough for guilt later.

"I'm sorry Sabé but this must be done. It was my foolish decisions that has enslaved the Naboo and now the galaxy. It is time I face judgement for it."

Sabé kept her expression stoic, but her eyes betrayed her. Padmé knew that she did not like this plan one bit and was even less keen on the idea the twins were being placed at risk. The young senator also knew that her former decoy would not speak of it further.

As the two women embraced in parting Padmé met her friend's troubled gaze and gave a sad smile. "If for whatever reason, I do not return-"

"Do not speak of such things milady everything will go as planned."

Padmé did not need to ask who Sabé was trying to convince of this statement. Nevertheless time was running out, so Padmé buried the thought and politely nodded to Sabé's bow before turning towards the hanger bay.

"Senator—Padmé,"

Sabé's voice was almost deceiving with its calm. Padmé paused in mid step as she faced her childhood friend.

"Maybe the goddess guide you, old friend."

"And you, Sabé," the senator whispered in reply before swiftly departing for her ship with C-3PO in tow, his mindless chatter easily ignored.

Setting the ships coordinates for Mustafar, Padmé's thoughts turned to what lied ahead.

Tonight it would finally end. For good or ill, she could not say. Whatever was to come, Padmé knew she would face her _judgement_ bravely or she would die trying.


	13. The Phoenix Epilogue

The drug took little time to take effect; its purpose was a sinister, yet necessary, evil.

Padmé felt her body growing numb to the poison. Soon she would be unable to even feel the pains of birth. It was the one side effect that she was grateful to experience.

She knew it would not be long before she would enter a state of hibernation. Unless one knew precisely what to look for there would be no evidence that would reveal her true condition. Even modern technology would not be able to pick up the evidence. For all intents and purposes, Padmé Amidala Naberrie would be considered dead and she could not have been happier for it.

Soon her children would be in good hands, and she would finally be free to embrace the birthright of her destiny.

A sharp pain pulled her from her euphoric thoughts and Padmé cried out. The sound of a baby's cry immediately followed. It was a boy.

"Luke," she breathed while struggling to maintain her focus. It was not long before the labour pains returned. It ensured that her attentions would not be diverted from her final task, and her greatest ruse.

Leia soon entered the world. Though Padmé wanted to close her eyes and rest, she could not bring herself to do it.

The sight of Obi-Wan's worn and weary expression reminded her that he had been through far more than anyone ever should ever experience. Padmé knew he did not deserve the fate bestowed on him. Fighting back the drugs that coursed through her veins Padmé broke the awkward silence.

"There is still good in him, Obi-Wan…I know there is still good left in him."

The former queen did not believe her own words. It did not matter, Obi-Wan was in desperate need of some hope and so she made it her duty to give him just that. She knew his friend Bail Organa would have said some similar if he could. However, Bail was not a man who spoke of such things freely, so she spoke the words for him.

Padmé closed her eyes as her thoughts began to clear. Her heartbeat began to slow and soon the rest of her major organs were following en suit. With one last sigh Padmé breathed her _final_ breath and entered a state of hibernation.

The former queen did not emerge from this state until a few days after her very public funeral. By then all of her plans had been set in motion and with it the birth of the Empire's greatest threat.

* * *

In her dreams Bail was there. Dark eyes sparkling with life, filled with wisdom and the hints of mischief. The sight of her dearest friend and love brought a smile to her lips. He smiled back causing her cheeks to warm in bashful acceptance. It soon faded.

_"How long do you plan to keep them waiting?"_

Padmé furrowed her brow in curiosity. The meaning of his words left her uncertain and confused.

"Who is waiting?"

He never answered her question. As soon as he spoke Bail was gone, leaving in his place a reflection of herself. The doppelganger wore the ancient garbs of an age old Naboo queen.

"They are calling you, your majesty."

It was not Padmé at all, rather her second-in-command and former decoy Sabé.

"Whose calling? The people of Naboo?" Padmé tried again. The decoy said nothing. Instead she silently turned away her face transforming to reveal another handmaiden-her latest decoy-Dormé.

"No, your victims."

Padmé's eyes snapped open as her lungs drew in a sharp gasp. She sat up quickly and immediately regretted it. Her head pounded viciously warning her that this was no dream.

"Milady?

"Padmé, can you hear me?"

It felt as though too much time had passed as though she were out of focus and unable to connect. Immediately she tried to recall the events of before so as to situate herself. However the harder Padmé struggled, the worst the headache became.

Taking a moment to register her surroundings she soon discovered that she was no where familiar. The former queen had no idea where she was or even how she got here. It was unnerving.

"Where am I?" she hoarsely whispered feeling as though her tongue was made of sandpaper.

"We're still on Naboo."

Padmé recognized the voice and slowly turned her head to catch sight of Sabé who now placed a cool cloth against her throbbing brow.

"The funeral procession was a success. There were no sightings of Skywalker," Saché interjected. Padmé nodded uncertain if this was a good sign or one more reason to be concerned.

"Good. So long as he believes his _angel_ is gone, I will be free to do my work," Padmé stated in soft but firm tones. Neither handmaiden missed her undertones of cynicism. It was then that her memories began to return. With it came another fear.

"What of the children?" she asked quickly. Sabé bowed and gave a soft smile. Her expression said more than words ever could.

"They are in good hands milady."

Padmé sighed and gave another weak nod; she tried to ignore her pounding head. It was one less thing she had to worry about.

As her memories began to return Padmé found it increasingly difficult to ignore the urgency of the moment. Unfortunately her body felt otherwise and upon attempting to get out of bed the room spun violently forcing the young woman to lie down once more.

"It will be a few days at least before you're back on your feet."

Unaware of the doctor's entrance, Padmé's eyes sought him out. The elder man-whom Padmé would later learn was Rabé's father- looked almost amused by her impatience. It did little to help her mood.

"I don't have a few days," Padmé insisted. "We must leave now. The Supreme Chancellor –Emperor," she corrected herself remembering the famous speech made that marked the Republic's demise.

"The Emperor is certain to tighten security. Now is our only chance to leave, while everything is still in chaos!"

Sabé glanced to Saché who silently folded her arms, both wore dark expressions.

"Padmé, you've been out of commission for over three days now. Security has already been established on most of the core worlds. Only the Outer Rim remains safe for travel," Saché said in polite, but concerned tones.

Padmé resisted the urge to curse. She had only awoken and already she was behind schedule. Bail used to always tease her about always running against time. He had a theory that she worked best when under pressure, and even better when the odds were stacked against her.

She was glad that he was not here now and hoped that he made the escape while he still had the chance.

"Saché, I trust you have made arrangements for our departure?" Padmé asked softly, before thanking Sabé who had brought her a glass of water. She never realized how thirsty she was until she felt the cool liquid pour down her parched throat. her expression stoic once more.

Saché gave a stiff nod in confirmation. Despite Padmé's absence, things were moving along nicely. A moment later Rabé was entering the room and Padmé gave her a polite nod in greeting.

"Everything is ready as you have asked milady," Rabé stated before adding, "all that remains now is for you to give the go ahead."

The doctor silently began to examine Padmé's levels ensuring that she was recovering without complications.

"Despite the doctor's orders, how much time do we realistically have? Padmé asked meeting Sabé's watchful gaze.

"The Emperor will be arriving in Fifty two standard hours. Our contacts says that he will be overseeing the establishment of Naboo's new leadership," Sabé answered.

"Indeed. I will be ready then.

"In the meantime please let our contacts know that Operation: _Resurrection_ has begun," Padmé murmured softly.

She tried not to wince as the doctor gingerly touched her temples, but her motions were swiftly noticed. Sabé moved to intercede so as to dab her brow with a cold cloth, but the former queen shook her head.

"You are all dismissed," she whispered, finding that it hurt even to speak now. She needed rest and her handmaidens were swift to respect her orders. Only Sabé paused to give the former queen a compassionate look before departing.

The doctor continued to monitor her condition as Padmé closed her eyes and drifted off into a light sleep. A hint of a smile crept into her features as dreams for the first time in so long looked to the future. She had nothing now; no power, no titles, no money and no family to speak of. Yet for the first time in her entire life she was free.

It was the end of many things, for Padmé it was only the beginning.


End file.
